Lucky Penny
by Snapegirlkmf
Summary: written for St. Patrick's Day challenge on FB. When Belle discovers her daughter missing, she and Gold must go through the perils of Underhill to find her again . . . if they can outwit the fae who have taken her. Rumbelle AU! Sequel to Love is Memory.
1. The Changeling

**Lucky Penny**

**1**

**Changeling**

**A/N: this is the sequel to Love is Memory. Written with greatest respect and love for Robert Carlyle and Emilie deRavin. Don't own, dearies!**

It had been almost two months since Belle had regained her memories and come home to her family. She had spent much of that time getting reacquainted with her husband and daughter, and returning to work at the library for four days a week. It was drawing near St. Patrick's Day and Belle wanted to plan a special day for the family. She had thought a picnic might be nice, in the park beside the playground, so they could eat lunch and have fun playing with Ava on the swings and in the castle. She had bought several books on food she might cook, though she thought she would keep it simple and opted for potato salad, carrot salad with raisins, and corned beef sandwiches with mustard and coleslaw. She would also make some Irish soda bread for breakfast, and bring some cinnamon scones and shamrock sugar cookies for dessert. Since neither she nor Bobby were drinkers, Belle opted to have fizzy lemonade instead of beer. Plus she would make sure to pack a shamrock tablecloth and some festive paper plates and silverware.

While she was planning this in her head, she was also making breakfast for her husband and herself, making some feta cheese and spinach omelets, with whole grain toast, and some broiled tomatoes sprinkled with parmesan cheese and pepper.

Bobby Gold, also known as Rumplestiltskin, was dressed in his usual Armani gray suit and this time was wearing a deep cobalt blue shirt and midnight blue tie. He was currently trying to get their toddler, Ava, to eat her cereal, which was sometimes a breeze and sometimes a feat worthy of Hercules depending on the mood the child was in. Today the little girl was in one of her Royal Pain moods, as Belle referred to them, and kept refusing to eat, shaking her head and pursing her rosebud mouth shut whenever her papa brought the spoon near her mouth.

"Ah, come on, Ava. Just eat one bite. Just one for Papa," Bobby said, using his most persuasive tone on the little imp. "You like Golden Grahams, I know you do."

Ava stubbornly shook her head. "No!"

Belle rolled her eyes at her toddler's intransigence. Sometimes Ava made her long to run screaming down the street. Bobby, on the other hand, had the patience of a saint, and almost nothing fazed him. He took temper tantrums, potty training, and fevers in stride. Belle supposed it had to do with the fact that he was a sorcerer and had raised a child before, and he was also technically three hundred years old. So his patience seemed legendary.

Gold sighed and set the spoon back in the bowl of cereal, which was getting soggier by the moment the longer Ava kept refusing to eat it. "Okay, baby girl. _Why_ won't you eat your Golden Grahams?"

"'Cuz I want Lucky Charms!" Ava sang. "They're magically delicious!"

Gold couldn't help smiling at his brilliant daughter, who besides inheriting his magical ability, had inherited her mother's brains as well as her beauty. Ava's vocabulary was growing in leaps and bounds every day, she spoke in complete sentences now, and she remembered _everything_ she heard or saw. So much so that both parents needed to mind their P's and Q's around her, lest she end up having a mouth like a truck driver.

"Lucky Charms, huh?" he mused. He knew they didn't have that kind of cereal in their pantry. But that didn't really present a problem for him. "All right. But if I get you Lucky Charms, Ava, will you eat them?"

"Uh huh. I eat them all up!" the toddler said, and clapped her hands.

Bobby gestured and a box of Lucky Charms now appeared on the table in front of him. He vanished the soggy bowl of cereal and got a new bowl and put in Lucky Charms and milk. Then he floated the bowl over to his daughter and said, "Okay, now you remember our deal, right, dearie?"

"Yup. An' nobody breaks deals with you, Papa!" Ava stated.

Belle started chuckling as she flipped the omelets. Ava was very much her daddy's little girl.

Gold chuckled and gently tweaked her nose before sitting down and saying, "Now open wide, here comes a flying—" he brought the spoon close to his daughter's mouth.

"Monkey!" she yelled, having watched _The Wizard of Oz_ for the tenth time that week. She now opened her mouth and let her papa feed her. "Mmm!"

"Good job! Now chew and swallow," Bobby told her, waiting until the child had done so before giving her another mouthful. To his relief, Ava ate without protest now that she had the cereal she wanted, and though she could feed herself most things, she liked her papa to feed her cereal.

Once she had eaten the bowl of Lucky Charms, Bobby washed her face and hands with a wet dish towel and gave her a sippy cup of apple juice to drink while he and Belle ate their own breakfasts.

Gold cut into his broiled tomato and ate some. "This is delicious, Belle," he told his wife. "I've never eaten them like this."

"I know, I usually only eat them in salads and on hamburgers," she said. "But Granny gave me the recipe and suggested I try it, so . . . I did. I brushed the tops with a little olive oil, sprinkled some oregano and basil on them and parmesan cheese and I really like them, Bobby." She cut up her tomato and ate it with her omelet, enjoying the melding of flavors, from the slightly tangy feta cheese and mellow spinach to the hearty tomato with spices.

"Me have some, Mama," Ava said, reaching her hand out to grab some food from Belle's plate.

"Wait, let me get some for you," Belle said, and put some tomato on her fork and fed it to Ava. She had been trying to get the little girl to try new foods gradually.

The child chewed for a moment, then said, "I like it!"

"It's yummy, isn't it?" Belle laughed, and ate some more herself.

"More, pwease!"

She ended up feeding Ava half her tomato and some of her omelet as well, before the toddler was full and Bobby had to leave for work.

Ava waved goodbye sadly to her father, who kissed her and said, "Be good for Mama, and I'll see you later, babydoll!"

"Bye, Papa!" the toddler sniffled, looking woebegone.

Belle spent the rest of that morning playing with her daughter and doing laundry.

"The itsy bitsy spider went up the water spout!" Belle sang to Ava and made climbing motions with her hands as she sat on the floor with her daughter.

"Down came the wain and washed the 'pider out!" Ava chanted, and made swishing motions with her hands.

"Up came the sun and dried up all the rain!" Belle held up her arms in a circle around her head.

"Then the itsy bitsy 'pider went up the spout again!" Ave finished and made climbing motions again. "Yay!"

Belle then played other games with the toddler, until she started yawning and crawled into her lap, laying her small head against her mother's shoulder.

She rocked Ava to sleep in their maple rocking chair and put her down for a nap in her crib before returning downstairs to get the last load of clothes out of the dryer.

As she went upstairs with some folded sheets and towels, she saw Mittens, their black and white cat, come racing down the hall, her fur on end. The cat ran downstairs looking frazzled.

"Mittens! Silly kitty!" Belle smiled. Then she went to put the laundry away.

Upon shutting the linen closet door, Belle noticed that the door to the nursery, where Ava was sleeping, was shut and she went to open it, finding it odd it had closed by itself.

As she opened the door, she noticed a draft and saw that the window was half open. Puzzled, she went and shut it, wondering why it was open. Surely she hadn't left it that way? The weather wasn't quite warm enough for that, and she was always careful not to leave open windows around the baby, because Ava could fall out of them.

She turned to check on her daughter, and saw the blanket was covering the baby's face. Belle leaned over and tugged it down . . . then froze, her mouth gaping.

For Ava was not sleeping in the crib.

Instead there was a stick-like thing shaped vaguely like a person lying there, with a carved face and staring coal eyes and green shoots for hair.

A horrified Belle started screaming. "Ava! Ava!"

She looked under the crib and all over the room, calling for her daughter. But Ava was gone.

Utterly panicked, Belle reached in her pocket and dialed Bobby's work number.

Two minutes later Gold transported himself home after listening to his wife's frantic phone call.

He hugged and comforted Belle, who was almost hysterical, and then went to search the nursery with magic, hoping that he would find his baby hiding with her magic.

But there was no trace of her, only the odd changeling in the crib. Rumple picked up the stick figure to examine it, feeling a latent magic within it. And beneath it he found an Irish penny, glinting in the sunlight.

"Bobby . . . what happened to her?" Belle half-sobbed.

"I . . . think I know," he said softly, holding the penny in his hand. "This . . . construct in her crib was left here by a powerful worker of magic . . . and only one type of being I know leaves this in place of the mortal child they've taken."

Belle stared at him, her blue eyes misted with tears. "You mean . . .?"

"They've taken our baby, Belle!" Gold said hoarsely. "The Sidhe have taken Ava and left a changeling in her place. The penny confirms it."

"Oh my God, Robert! We have to get her back!"

He put his arm around his wife. "We will, Belle. Or my name isn't Rumplestiltskin." Then his hand closed around the penny, crushing it in his palm until it left an indentation there.


	2. Pennies and Portals

**2**

**Pennies and Portals**

"How . . . how are you going to do that?" Belle asked, wiping her eyes on her sleeve. "They've probably taken her somewhere . . . not in this world."

He nodded gravely. "Of that, I have no doubt. Whoever stole her would have spirited her away to Tir Na Nog."

"Then how do we get there?"

"Well . . . we'll need a portal, dearie." He frowned at the penny in his hand. "I can try and spin one with my wheel."

"All right," Belle agreed. "Then let's try."

They went downstairs again, to the basement, where Bobby kept his magical wheel, and he sat down at it, grasping a handful of straw from the basket beside it and spinning it into gold. The gold thread was necessary to form the base of the portal. Then Belle came behind him and set her hands on his shoulders.

They had discovered after spinning the portal to Neverland that it required true lovers to touch while Rumple spun the portal.

Bobby concentrated and began to spin.

The wheel whirled faster and faster, with the gold thread spinning around and around, but no portal formed. Rumple concentrated harder, until his forehead squinched and sweat beaded his brow and still no portal formed.

"Robert!" Belle cried in alarm. "It's not working. Stop before you hurt yourself."

Robert gritted his teeth so hard he nearly chipped one. But it was futile. He halted after a few more moments, his magic dying to a trickle, the tips of his fingers red and throbbing as he had pressed down too hard upon the thread as he spun in his frustration.

"Belle . . . I can't . . . it's blocked . . . the damn Sidhe have blocked the way to Tir Na Nog," he hissed, blowing on his stinging fingers.

She massaged his shoulders, biting her lip to keep from screaming in frustration. "Then . . . if we can't get to it one way, there has to be another. I'm not giving up! I'm going to get back our daughter and go 50 shades of crazy on whoever took her, Rumple!"

His hand reached up and clasped hers. She only called him by his fairy tale persona when she was greatly stressed, otherwise she used his Storybrooke name, for she knew that he tended to prefer it. "Okay, dearie. I'll just have to figure out another way."

Belle pursed her lips while gently running her fingers over her husband's sore hand. She hated to see him hurt, especially his hands, those slender poet's hands, flexible enough to cast a spell with a gesture, gentle enough to hold a moth between his fingers and not crush it, yet strong enough to hold a sobbing terrified toddler when she woke from a nightmare. Not to mention able to make love to her with the merest touch.

"Maybe . . . a tracking spell?" she suggested.

"Yes, there's an idea. I'll get something of hers and enchant it to show us where to find her," he agreed. "But . . . that still doesn't solve the problem of how to get there, dearie."

Then he reached into his pocket and pulled out the Irish penny, its surface bright and shiny with its harp on the obverse and the ornamental bird on the reverse side. He examined it with his sorcerer's sight, that allowed him to see magical emanations upon people, places, and objects. The penny glowed green to his seeking gaze.

He blinked and his sight returned to normal vision once more. "Belle, the penny, it bears some enchantment, perhaps from the one who held it. I think . . . I think I can use it somehow to get to Tir Na Nog." He gripped it hard. "But I'll need to think about it first."

"Maybe it's a lucky penny, Robert," she murmured, and kissed his palm gently. "You do that and I'll . . . I'll go and make some tea."

She went upstairs, not only to make tea, but to also pack a few things in a knapsack, just in case.

The sorcerer of Storybrooke studied the penny again, then rose and went to what appeared to be a blank cinderblock wall. He made a circling gesture with one hand and the wall melted away to reveal a large bookshelf with many volumes in it, all of nightblue leather with silver and gold runes upon them.

These were his collection of magical tomes, books he had spent a lifetime and more gathering from all the realms. He perused them and then picked up two from one shelf and a third from another.

Then he carried them over to his recliner and sat down to thumb through them. He had read every volume on that bookshelf several times and so had a vague idea of what he was searching for.

He read for several minutes, highlighting several passages with a glowing fingertip, until Belle returned with some tea in his chipped cup. Then he paused to drink, and afterwards returned to his reading.

Belle smiled at him, loving the small crease in his forehead that he got when he was intent upon something, and she placed a kiss upon the top of his head before returning upstairs to pack a few things.

She was inwardly terrified for her baby girl, but was determined to act bravely, no matter how much she was screaming on the inside. _Do the brave thing and bravery will follow. _She also had faith in her husband. Rumple would find a way to get Ava back. He had found a way to search for Bae, and even though he hadn't located him yet, knew that he was somewhere in this world. He would have gone to find him before now, but with Belle injured and now Ava missing, he had to put off his search a while longer.

She entered the nursery, and picked up the blanket Ava had been using when she put her down for her nap. It was a soft crocheted one, with a cream colored background and purple, blue, and pink roses on it. Rumple had made it, and Belle picked it up and hugged it to her.

She could smell the faint scent of milk and honey and the lavender baby oil she had put on Ava after she had bathed her that morning. Belle shut her eyes tightly, but a few tears managed to creep out and fall upon the blanket.

"I'll find you, Ava. I'll never stop searching for you, my precious baby girl. Never! Not till you're safe and sound and back where you belong," she vowed, as her tears mingled with the roses upon the blanket, making them sparkle slightly in the sunlight streaming from the window. "Because when you find something worth fighting for . . . you never give up."

**Page~*~*~*~*~Break**

Several hours later, Bobby rose and stretched. He had gathered enough information from his spellbooks to come up with a theory that should work. Or so he thought. He placed the books back on the shelf and restored the wall before going upstairs to tell Belle what he had discovered.

Together, they got in his Cadillac and drove over to the park, where there was a large grassy knoll. Gold got out and limped over to the knoll and said to Belle, "If my theory is correct, this should open a portal to Tir Na Nog. And if not . . . then I'll keep trying."

He leaned slightly upon his cane and withdrew a small dagger from his jacket pocket. This was an old thing, a small athame that he had used back when he was a simple country spinner to eat with, a gift from his guardians when he had turned sixteen. Gripping it in one hand, he brought it down and pricked his finger on his opposite hand.

Then he turned his hand and let the blood drip upon the ground.

"Bobby, what are you doing?" Belle cried.

"All magic comes with a price, dearie," he reminded her. "And this is what is required . . ." Then he set the penny down upon the bright red drops of blood and spun it hard.

The penny spun faster and faster and purple and gold sparks shot out of it, swirling into a vortex that arced up and curved like a doorway, running with rivulets of rainbowed light.

Then it shimmered and showed a long tunnel lit with green light.

"Yes! You did it!" cheered Belle, then she hugged her husband tightly.

Robert stroked her hair, murmuring, "Yes, this is the way to Tir Na Nog."

He tucked his athame back in his pocket. "Where's that blanket of Ava's?"

"Here," Belle handed to him.

Gold reached into his other pocket and withdrew a potion, which he sprinkled upon the blanket. "There! Now this will show me where Ava is."

He ran a hand down his clothing and his thousand dollar suit became his comfortable leather pants and crimson shirt with his crocodile leather vest and knee high boots that he wore in Fairy Tale Land. Then he turned to his wife. "Wish me luck, dearie."

She clasped his hands in hers firmly. "I don't need to, Bobby. Because I'm going with you."

"What? Belle, no, you can't . . ."

"Yes, I can! This is my baby too, and I'm not some helpless damsel in distress, Robert Gold! I'm coming."

"Belle . . ." he was about to protest some more, for he hated putting her in danger, but then he abruptly clamped his mouth shut.

When she wished, she could be as stubborn as ten mules and then some. Besides, she was right.

"Okay." He gestured and her pretty blue dress became leather pants and a red shirt and leather vest as well, clothes that hugged her petite frame and would give her the freedom to move if she needed to.

After that he leaned again on his cane. He knew this quest would prove taxing for him, but he had to bear with his old injury, since that was the price regaining his magic had required. He snapped his fingers and a crystal vial with a golden liquid appeared in his hand.

"What's that?" Belle asked curiously.

"It's a potion called the Tears of Tir Na Nog, and it will help us see past any fae glamour. The Sidhe are known for it, and for their love of trickery." He unstoppered the bottle and said, "Tilt your head back, and let me put the drops in your eyes, Belle."

After he had done so, she took the vial and did the same for him.

"That should last for several hours," he told her.

She went and got the pack from the car, and tucked the revolver and some shells in her belt. She knew that the Sidhe disliked and feared cold iron, and the gun was something that might stop one of them if necessary.

When she returned, she found her husband kneeling before the portal and nailing one end of a spool of gold thread into the ground.

He looked up as she approached. "Insurance," he explained. "With this we can find our way back home again. The Sidhe never do quite what they promise, so it's best to be prepared."

Belle nodded tightly.

Gold tucked the spool into his pocket, then said, "Okay, dearie. Let's go." He took Belle's hand and his cane, then walked into the portal.

When they emerged on the other side they were in a long low tunnel that was faceted a lovely emerald green. Gold tucked the baby blanket under his arm and continued walking forward, the spool of thread trailing behind him.

Belle followed, keeping one hand on the gun, alert and wary.

Tales abounded about the realm of the fae, and one and all said that Tir Na Nog did not welcome strangers. And that was how the fae preferred it. Belle didn't care, however. She was here to find her child, and woe betide any who got in her way.


	3. The Three Tests

**3**

**Three Tests**

The child's screams echoed throughout the Summer Palace. Princess Maeve Highgarden winced as the little girl she had brought to her home sobbed into the satin pillow and hollered again for her missing parents.

"Mama! Papa! Mama! Want my Mama!" Ava shrieked, her beautiful cherubic face all splotchy with tears and red from screaming. "Papa, where are you?"

Maeve winced, her sensitive ears throbbing in time to the little girl's howls. She had never known that a child could yell so _loud_. Or one that was resistant to her charms of forgetfulness and glamourie. But this child clearly had some magic in her, for with her screams also came objects that flew about the room, like a fork and a spoon, the bowl of porridge she had tried to get the child to eat was now decorating the glistening jeweled walls, flung there after the little girl had realized that her parents weren't with her in the strange room with the equally strange lady with the silvery hair and pointed ears and large shamrock green eyes wearing the pretty green and blue gown.

"Child, please stop screeching," Maeve tried again to reason with the little girl. "Your . . . err . . mama and papa will be back soon." She gave the child a smile, one that had never failed to enchant Sidhe men, especially her late husband, and even mortals.

But Ava was having none of it. She had woken from her nap to find herself in a strange place, and without her parents. Usually she woke in a good mood, but today she was cranky and wet, and she didn't like the fact that this lady had tried to . . . do something to her . . . something that made her head hurt and her skin itch. Frightened and out of sorts, she reacted like any toddler would, and started crying for her mama and papa.

Suddenly, the door to the suite banged open and a little man dressed all in green popped into the room. He was only five inches tall, with a pointed hat and shiny black shoes with silver buckles. He had a shock of red hair and goatee as well, plus the biggest pair of pointed ears. "Yer Highness, forgive me, but the youngling be screaming so much she scared the kelpie outta the lake and caused cook's sponge cake to fall. I think ye should take her back where ye got her from!"

"Nonsense, Shea!" the Sidhe princess snorted. "She'll settle into her new home by and by."

A stuffed dragon suddenly flew across the room as Ava howled.

"It just might take some time."

Shea, who was a leprechaun, frowned. "Why hasna the glamourie calmed her down?"

"I don't know. She's got magic and she . . . resisted me," Maeve said, pouting a little.

"Resisted ye?" Shea raised an eyebrow. "The lass must have powerful magic to resist ye, Princess of the Sidhe." He shook his head. "Take her back, Yer Ladyship. I told ye not to take a mortal child—"

"And I told you to mind your own affairs, Seneschal!" Maeve snapped. "The mortals can have other children to replace this one. They breed like rabbits! Unlike us," she trailed off, twisting her wedding band around her finger. She would never admit that perhaps Shea was right, and she had made a mistake.

She had seen the child playing at the park two days earlier, and had been instantly smitten with her pretty face and huge blue eyes, and the way she had laughed and run after the auburn haired woman and the man with the light brown hair made her grieving heart cease its mourning for a moment. And it was then that she knew she must have the child . . . for the child could make her happy.

So she had done what one of her folk had not done in centuries . . . she had stolen into the little girl's nursery and swapped her for a changeling made of sticks, spiriting her back to Tir Na Nog in a twinkling. If she could get the child to eat some of the fae food, then the girl would become linked to Maeve's world, and grow and age like a Sidhe would. And Maeve would have a child she could raise with love and laughter.

_If_ the little imp would cooperate!

"What be wrong with the little lass?" asked Shea, coming forward into the room, which was a round bower with a small table and chairs, a vanity, and a four poster bed, which the child was currently on, bawling and throwing a fit worthy of a boggart.

"She wants her parents!" Maeve said crossly.

"Hmm . . . and mayhap there's sommat else wrong too," said the leprechaun. He sniffed the air. "Did ye no change the lass, Yer Highness? I think she wet the bed."

"What?" Maeve looked horrified. "She _peed_ on my _bed_? Like . . . like an animal?"

Shea coughed. "'Tis a baby, Yer Ladyship. She canna help it." He hopped on the bed and waved a hand at the crying child, and her soiled jeans and underwear was replaced by a little pink gown and ruffled panties and cunning little slippers. Then he usd magic to clean the bed too, so the child wasn't lying in her own urine. He had told his ruler that this had been a mistake, not the least because the princess had no idea how to care for a child.

"There now, lassie," he crooned, making a silly face at the little girl. "I be Shea." He bowed to her. "And what's yer name?"

Ava suddenly topped crying. For one thing, she was no longer wet and for another, she had never seen anything like the leprechaun before. "Funny! Funny Shea!" she clapped her hands and smiled.

"Aye, I be Shea. And ye?"

Ava pointed to herself. "I Ava. Ava 'driana Gold."

"Well met, Lady Ava," Shea bowed to her and then turned a back handspring.

"Where Mama?" she asked, looking about for Belle.

"Umm . . . she's not here," Shea began.

Immediately Ava's face crumpled and she started crying again.

Shea groaned and tried to make her laugh again, conjuring balls of light and juggling them and doing cartwheels and tumbling across the bed, anything to make the little girl stop crying.

When Ava saw the magic balls, she reached out with her chubby hands, hiccupping, and calling, "Papa? Papa!"

Shea halted and said, "You . . . see these? Yer papa, was he a juggler?"

Ava sniffled. "Papa! Papa do magic!" She held out her hands and the stuffed dragon flew into them.

Shea's eyebrows went into his hair. "Sun and Moon, Yer Ladyship! Ye've taken a sorcerer's child!"

Maeve looked slightly alarmed. "The child could be mistaken. I sensed no magic about the house."

"She recognized it when I conjured, and she has her own magic," Shea reminded her. "'Tisn't wise to traffic with wizards, yer Ladyship."

Maeve huffed. "They'll never find her, Shea. Tir Na Nog is closed to mortals unless they have a token or know how to spin a portal. Even if her papa is a sorcerer, he must not be a very good one, for I didn't even sense his aura while I was there. Quit being a worrywart. The child is mine now!"

"The child has a name. 'Tis Ava," Shea reminded her.

"Ava, won't you eat something?" Maeve cooed, vanishing the porridge coating the walls and waving her hand. A new bowl of steaming oat porridge sweetened with dates, cranberries, and honey appeared.

The toddler shook her head. "No! Want Golden Grahams!"

Maeve looked puzzled. "Golden Grahams?"

Shea spread his hands. "I dinna know what that is, Yer Ladyship. Mayhap sommat mortals eat?"

Before Maeve could snap at him, since he was the closest one of her advisors to the mortal realm, as he had been to visit it in the last century, a brown and white cat sauntered into the room, fastening its green eyes upon her. "Ah, Grimalkin."

"Hello, Your Highness," purred the cat. "And how is our little . . . guest doing?" The cat was almost the size of a small dog and flicked his tail lazily as he came to peer at the child.

Suddenly Ava brightened. "Kitty! 'Mere! I pet you, kitty!" She scrambled off the bed and ran at the cat, who was actually a fae creature who bore a cat's shape.

Before Grimalkin quite knew what she was about, Ava had grabbed him in a hug and kissed the top of his head. "Mm-ma! Kiss the kitty!"

Grimalkin squirmed and meowed in a most undignified fashion. "Help! She _kissed_ me! Ick! I have people germs! Ugh! Now I need to groom myself for an hour!" He grimaced, looking utterly disgusted. "Maeve! Why are you standing there laughing? It's not funny! This is awful!"

"Oooh, looks like you're her new object o' affection, Grimalkin!" chortled Shea, his green eyes dancing. "Such a pickle for such a grumpy cat!"

Grimalkin struggled, but Ava was quite strong and had him in an arm lock, plus he knew better than to damage the prospective heir to the Highgarden throne. So he flattened his ears and looked totally put out. This was totally embarrassing! Here he was, a high ranking emissary of the Seelie court, being embraced and _kissed_ by a mortal!

Then Grimalkin got an idea. So the child liked cats did she? He gave a long summoning yowl . . . and ten fae cats popped into the room at his call.

Ava squealed in delight! "Yay! More kitties!" Then she released Grimalkin, who shuddered from nose to tail tip, and ran giggling into the group of cats, trying to hug, pet, and kiss them all.

"Why thank you, Grimalkin," Maeve told her eldest advisor.

"Happy to be of service, Your Highness," Grimalkin said sourly.

While Maeve watched her new child playing with all the grimalkins, Shea slipped unnoticed from her quarters. The leprechaun was loyal to his mistress but also had a conscience that was bothering him right then. He knew what Maeve had done was not right. The child had a home and a family who cared about her. She did not deserve to be snatched away from them, no matter what Maeve wished in her grief over losing her husband Donal and their unborn child.

Just then, Shea sensed that intruders had entered the Sidhe realm and transported away to confront them. He had an uneasy feeling he knew who they were.

**Page~*~*~*~Break**

Belle and Robert continued walking for what felt like over an hour, but it was hard to tell because the tunnel was so featureless, just endless miles of faceted emerald stone. It almost gave Belle a headache.

Bobby limped along grimly beside her, gritting his teeth, for his leg was throbbing unmercifully.

Belle could tell by the set of his jaw that he was in pain, but he'd die before admitting it, the stubborn man! She touched him gently on the shoulder. "Bobby, let's stop and rest for a bit. I'm getting tired and hungry."

"Sure, dearie."

They halted a few more feet up the tunnel, and sat down on the ground. Gold rubbed his leg while Belle got out the canteens and some granola bars and dried fruit and turkey jerky from her pack. "Here. We need to eat to keep up our strength. I know you're not supposed to eat the food in Tir Na Nog, so . . . that's why I brought these."

"Very smart, Belle," Bobby said approvingly. "I'm so glad I married an intelligent woman this time around. Milah was attractive, but that woman was stupider than a sheep sometimes, and that's the God's honest truth." He bit into his granola bar, saying wistfully, "If Ava was here she'd say she wanted some of this."

"I know. These are Golden Grahams bars," Belle told him sadly.

"I thought I recognized the taste," he sighed, and ate another bite, though remembering his missing daughter caused a bitter taste in his mouth.

They had just finished their meal and drank some water when a small man dressed all in green popped up in front of them. "Top o' the mornin' to ye! Or is it afternoon now? Hard to tell time here in Tir Na Nog!"

"Is that meant to be a joke, leprechaun?" Robert demanded sharply, one hand coming up in a defensive gesture.

Belle gripped her gun. "Sir, we want to know something. We're looking for our daughter. She was . . . err . . ."

"She was stolen from us!" Gold hissed in rage. "And we want her back!"

Shea held up a hand. "Aye, I can see ye do." he gave them a shrewd look. "But once someone enters Tir Na Nog, it sometimes takes a great sacrifice to get them back."

"We're willing to pay any price to do so," Belle interjected.

"Do you want to make a deal with us, dearie?" queried Gold.

"If it's a bargain ye be seekin', I can do that well enough," Shea nodded. "It so happens I know where your little lass is being kept. But in order to go there, ye have to pass three tests."

"What three tests?" demanded Gold.

"Tell us!" Belle urged.

"I shall . . . if I have ye're word in return that ye'll help me," Shea bargained.

Gold narrowed his eyes. "Help you do what?"

"Help protect me from my mistress."

"And who is that?" asked Belle. "Titania?"

"Nay. She be her daughter, Maeve. Princess Highgarden. Can ye do that?"

"If we agree to do this . . . you'll help us get our daughter back?" Gold asked shrewdly. "Why would you do this?"

"Because I know what she has done is wrong," Shea answered. "She did what she did out of grief, but hers is not me story to tell." He spread his hands. "Do we have a deal . . .?"

"Robert Gold," Gold replied smoothly.

"Aye. So do we?"

"Deal!" Gold held out his hand, and the leprechaun shook his finger. "Now, what three tasks do you speak of?"

"There's always three, ye ken. For three is the sacred number, the trefoil," Shea began. "The first is a test of knowledge, the three riddles of Finnulaugh, our Riddlemaker. Answer all three and ye may go on . . . to the River Nye, where you'll meet the kelpie. Ride him across and ye'll be within sight of the castle . . . and the path be guarded by two black dogs, Ocras and Ainle—you'd say Hungry and Warrior. Get past them and I'll show ye where Maeve's quarters be."

"And that's all?" asked Bobby.

"All? No mortal has ever done all three!" Shea chuckled. "Not since the time of the old heroes."

"Perhaps the time has come again," Belle said quietly.

"I hope so, milady. For yer sake and that of yer child." The leprechaun turned and gestured. "Keep on going this way, ye'll come to a fair meadow where be an auld crone. That be Finnulaugh. Answer her riddles and then go on. If ye can. Best of luck to ye!"

Then he bowed and vanished.

Gold levered himself to his feet. "Let's go, dearie." He began to walk up the tunnel, his cane making a soft tapping noise as he did so.

Belle followed, her hand on the gun in its holster. Whatever riddles this Riddlemaker came up with, she would solve them. Because nobody took her daughter, for whatever reason!


	4. Finnulaugh's Riddle Test

**4**

**Finnulaugh's Riddle Test **

As they walked onwards, Bobby peered at his wife and said, "I hope this Sidhe lady is fair in her challenge. In the old tales, they were often harsh and unpredictable, but generally stuck to their word and their tests, though difficult, were not impossible."

"I _will_ do this, Bobby," Belle said determinedly. "This riddle challenge is something that I shall pass because I must. Because nobody takes my baby girl!" Her jaw clenched tightly, and she continued on down the trail at a good pace, slowing slightly when she saw how her husband seemed taxed by it. "Your leg holding up?"

"I'm managing," he answered stiffly, not letting on how much pain he was enduring. His leg was stiff and he leaned most of his weight on his cane as he walked, gritting his teeth heard against the shooting pains climbing up and down it. He needed a good soak in a hot bath and a massage, and probably some muscle relaxants as well. But having none of those things, he just had to bear it.

_All magic comes with a price, Gold. And this is yours,_ he reminded himself. When the curse had been broken, he'd brought a magical field back to Storybrooke, so he wasn't helpless and could protect those he loved, and also find his son. And the price for such an act had been his physical well being. He would be forever a crippled sorcerer, dependant on his cane, but there were worse fates.

And at least now he could track and rescue his beloved child. He had lost one child, he'd be damned to eternal darkness before he'd lose another. His hand rubbed the athame at his belt. It was cold iron, and such was anathema to the fae. But he would use it only as a last resort. The fae could be bested at their own game.

Belle rubbed her eyes as they came upon a beautiful meadow filled with wildflowers-crocuses, goldenrod, pink nasturtiums, dandelions, and so on. She couldn't believe such a profusion grew here, in a place beneath the ground without sunlight. When she squinted, however, she saw glittering rocks in place of the wildflower meadow. She blinked and rubbed her eyes again. "Bobby? Why am I . . . seeing two different things? I see crystals and then the meadow."

"The seeing drops, dearie. It'll enable you to see through fae glamourie," he explained. "But it takes some getting used to. And look—there's our Riddlemaker." He pointed to a large rock in the middle of the meadow, where an old woman wearing a shapeless gray dress sat.

Belle squinted, and saw that the old woman was actually a fair looking Sidhe with deep red hair and large blue eyes wearing a gossamer gown of spun moonbeams and rainbows. But when she blinked, the guise of the old crone came back.

Finnulaugh looked at them and beckoned with her withered hand. "Travelers! Come closer, me dears! I be Finnulaugh, the Riddlemaker. Be ye here to answer me challenge?"

"We are," Belle declared. She walked up to the Sidhe and said, "I shall be the one doing the answering, Lady Finnulaugh."

"Aye, lass. And ye are?"

"Belle. Belle Gold," Belle answered.

"And this fine lad?"

"My husband, Bobby," Belle replied.

"Good. Good. Sit ye down, Belle," Finnulaugh gestured and another flat topped rock appeared in the meadow.

When Belle "looked" with her eyes half-closed, she could see that this rock was real and not glamouried. She sat down, and Bobby limped over to lean on one end. He glanced at his wife and took her hand in his briefly.

His touch gave her much needed support and courage. Belle looked at Finnulaugh and said, "I am ready. Ask away."

Finnulaugh's eyes narrowed. "For each riddle, ye have until the sun passes a quarter hour to reply. Here be the first one." She cleared her throat. "_Poke your fingers in my eyes and I will open wide my jaws. Linen, quills, or paper, my greedy lust devours all."_

Belle listened carefully to the riddle, repeating it silently in her head. There were always clues within the body of a riddle, she had learned. This one, she suspected, was metaphorical for something. She chewed the inside of her lip, as she often did when thinking hard.

_Poke your fingers in my eyes . . .what sort of item has eyes, so to speak? A potato does, but it doesn't have jaws . . .what sort of thing would "devour" paper, linen, and quills? You cut or trim a quill with a knife, but a knife doesn't have eyes. Now what cuts linen?_ She blinked sharply. Then she recalled seeing a familiar item almost every night in the workbasket beside her husband's chair, stuck into a ball of yarn. And it fulfilled all the criteria.

"I have it!" she declared triumphantly.

"What be your answer?"

"Scissors!"

Finnulaugh's eyes crinkled. "Tis correct! Not bad! Now for the next one. 'Tis a wee bit harder now!" The crone steepled her fingers and then recited, "_Though 'tis not an ox, it has horns, though not an ass, it has a pack saddle, wherever it goes it leaves silver behind. What is it?"_

Belle cupped her chin in her hand. Her brow furrowed. _Another description._ She tapped her finger against her lower lip.

Bobby watched her thoughtfully, thinking idly that she never had looked more adorable and desirable than when she was pondering something, her tongue protruding slightly from between her front teeth. _You can do it, my Belle. I have faith in you. You're the smartest woman I know, your brain is second to none._ Then he crossed his fingers, for it didn't hurt to have a little luck on your side.

Minutes ticked by and Bobby feared his wife was stumped.

But then she cried, "I know the answer."

"What be it?" cackled the crone.

"A snail! It has horns on its head, and carries a saddle in its shell, and leaves silver slime behind," Belle cried.

"Indeed, lass! Indeed!"

Bobby chuckled softly. How very ironic!

"And now, for yer final challenge," Finnulaugh cried. "_I am the beginning of sorrow and the end of sickness. You cannot express happiness without me, yet I am in the midst of crosses. I am always in risk, but never in danger. You may find me in the sun but I am never out of darkness."_

Her husband squeezed her hand. "You can solve it, Belle."

"Mmmhmm," she made a noncommittal noise. Her tongue protruded even more between her teeth as she thought hard.

This was a tough one, because there were so many variables. She had to find the thing they had in common.

Minutes ticked by. Finnulaugh yawned and stretched upon her rock. Gold shifted position and leaned even more heavily on his cane.

Belle thought. And thought. Then thought some more.

Time passed. Finnulaugh clucked and said, "Almost time, lassie. Have ye an answer for me?"

"I . . . I . . ." Belle stammered, trying to remain calm and collected. It was almost as if she could hear a clock ticking down the remaining minutes.

She almost bit her nails in frustration. She could solve this. She could. If only she had more time!

Suddenly, Robert put his hand on her shoulder. "Breathe, dearie. Then just relax."

His sound advice buoyed her flagging self-confidence. She closed her eyes, breathed in and out, and let the tension in her neck and shoulders flow out of her. She drifted . . . and then she opened her eyes and said, "Here's my answer. All of those things have something in common. The letter S."

Finnulaugh stood up then and bowed. "Right ye are, milady Gold! And a worthier opponent I've not had in nigh a hundred years!" She gestured and a road of cobblestones appeared behind her. "Ye may go on to the River Nye, where yer next test awaits ye. Good luck!"

Then she vanished.

"I did it!" Belle cried, and then she was being kissed deeply by her husband.

When at last they broke apart, Belle was flushed and glowing. "Come on! Let's see this kelpie."

"That's a water horse, dearie. Known to try and drown its victims if it can."

"How can we stay on its back?"

"Hmm. I have a spell to make sure we stick on," mused Bobby. "But I'll need to figure out one to make sure we don't drown."

"I have faith in you, love," his wife said confidently.

Soon they came to a quick flowing silvery stream and on the other side, in the distance was a glowing castle with midnight colored turrets.

Bobby was tempted to use his magic to try and bypass the stream, but then shook his head. He had agreed, after all to these tests, and now they'd have to make the best of them.

As he limped up to the River Nye, he cast a single enchantment upon himself and Belle.

After he'd done so, a sleek black horse with a flowing inky mane and tail entwined with green water weeds emerged from the depths of the river, rearing up and shrilling a battle cry, its hooves festooned with water weeds and its eyes burning with a cold clear intelligence. They were the eerie green of a predator's.


	5. A Bridle and a Lullaby

**5**

**A Bridle and a Lullaby**

The kelpie snorted and stamped a hoof upon the shore as Belle and Gold came up to the riverbank. It tossed its proud head and made a sound sort of like a stallion's whistle, but more fearsome. Then it wrinkled its lips and spoke, the voice which emerged from the kelpie's mouth was icily precise.

"Mortals, what do you do in Tir na Nog?"

"We're here to find our daughter, who was stolen from us," Gold answered.

"Indeed? And you believe she is here?"

"I don't _believe_, I _know_ it," Gold said stiffly. "I can track her with this," he showed the kelpie Ava's blanket. "And I was also told she is here by a denizen of this realm. And that we need to pass three tests before we can continue on and find her. You're the second one."

The kelpie gave a high-pitched whinny of amusement. "Am I? And perhaps your last one, laddie."

"I doubt that," Gold said coldly.

The kelpie tossed its head, then said, "You _do_ know the terms, right? You have to stay on my back all the way across the stream. _If_ you can."

"We can," Belle spoke up for the first time since coming to the riverbank.

"We'll see," the kelpie snorted.

Then Belle recalled something from another myth and bent and pulled her husband off to the side. "Bobby, I just thought of something."

"What?" he asked.

"You remember the myth of Bellerophon and Pegasus, right?"

"Of course I do. I took the mythology course online from Boston College," he replied. "Why?"

"Do you remember how Bellerophon caught Pegasus?"

"He used a golden bridle given to him by one of the gods, Athena, I think it was," Gold answered. "Wait a minute. You think . . . I can conjure up that bridle?"

"Or one like it. Didn't you tell me once that you had something like that in your castle?"

"Yes, but it was a golden bridle that could trap the wind," Gold mused. "It was made from fibers of the Golden Fleece. I don't know if it would work on a kelpie. It's a water creature."

"It's worth a shot, though. If you have it bridled, it can't take us beneath the water to drown us, right?" Belle said. "It has to follow your commands."

"True. All right." He concentrated hard, his brow furrowing.

Suddenly there was a flicker of purple smoke and then a delicate looking bridle appeared at his feet. "I did it!" he exclaimed quietly. Then he swayed on his feet and clutched at his cane.

"Robert!" Belle gasped, holding him upright.

"I'm fine. Don't worry. It's just magic's price," he panted. After a few moments, he bent and picked up the bridle. "Okay. Let's do this. We need to get Ava back quickly. Before she, God forbid, eats some of their food."

"I know," Belle chewed her lower lip worriedly. She was so afraid that they wouldn't be in time, that they would be too late to save their baby girl. "Bobbu, give me the bridle."

"How come?"

"Because I have a better chance of putting it on than you," she murmured.

He gazed at her shrewdly. "What are you planning?"

"You'll see," she answered mysteriously.

He handed her the golden bridle.

She took it, marveling at how soft and light it was. It was as if she held sunlight between her fingers. For an instant she doubted if the bridle would work. Then she straightened her shoulders and put aside her doubts. This had to work.

Bobby approached the kelpie first, thinking the water horse didn't look all that big. A destrier was bigger. The kelpie looked to be about the size of a large pony, therefore easy for him to mount.

The kelpie gave him a scornful look from its green eyes. "Change your mind, mortal?"

"Hardly," Bobby shook his head. Then he muttered a word and his cane shrank and he clipped it to his belt. Then he waited until Belle was beside him before he reached up to grab a handful of silky slippery mane.

"Want me to kneel down for you, cripple?" sneered the kelpie.

Bobby gritted his teeth at the mocking tone. "Don't do me any favors, water horse."

As he reached for the kelpie's mane and prepared to throw a leg over its back, Belle came and held out her hand. In it was one of the granola bars she'd brought.

"Look," she said softly. "I've brought you a treat."

The kelpie dipped its head. "What's this?" it asked, snuffling the granola bar on her palm.

"Food. Oats and honey. Try it."

The kelpie's eyes gleamed bright with curiosity, and it opened its mouth to take the granola bar.

As it did so, Belle put the bridle over its ears and then its nose.

It was so light and airy that at first the kelpie didn't even know it was there. Belle moved then and jumped on its back, holding onto Bobby's waist and gripping with her knees, giving him the reins as she did so.

Bobby gripped them in a fist in his right hand while holding some of the slippery mane in his left.

The kelpie jerked its head up and whinnied. "Now we'll see indeed, mortals!"

Then it sprang into the river and began swimming.

Belle and Gold managed to stay upon its back due to the spell Gold had cast previously, but the river water lapped at their legs and thighs, and made them shiver, for it was freezing.

About halfway across, the kelpie screamed and tried to dip its head beneath the surface, diving under to drown those on its back.

But Gold yanked the bridle and the kelpie discovered it couldn't dive, that the bridle bound it.

"NO! Tricked me!" it screamed, slamming the water with its hooves and thrashing about. "How dare you bind me, magician?!"

Gold hung on, as the kelpie went crazy beneath him, bucking and plunging, trying to shake its passengers off that way. It hooves ground into the river bottom and it sunfished and twisted, screaming its rage at the magician and his wife.

Belle was jarred from the bucking animal, and felt like she was stuck on the back of a hurricane.

Bobby could feel the anger of the kelpie through the bridle and knew if the creature ever succeeded in ridding itself of the bridle, they both would drown. The bucking was sending shockwaves throughout his backbone and his leg ached also from keeping it tense against the beast's side.

He gathered the reins and sent a firm command down the bridle. _Stop this! And swim us across the river. Now!_

The bridle shimmered and the kelpie suddenly quit bucking and swam sedately across the rest of the river.

Upon reaching the other side, the kelpie stepped lightly out of the water and stood once more upon the riverbank, its head lowered.

Bobby unraveled the charm and slid from its back, nearly crumpling to the ground. Fortunately, he managed to grab the kelpie's mane and muttered the release word so his cane was enlarged back to its usual size.

"You okay?" Belle asked as she slipped from the kelpie.

"Yes." Bobby shook off the exhaustion he felt and rubbed his leg and his backside absently.

The kelpie glared at him from beneath its forelock. "You are the only mortals in over five centuries to manage that trick. Take this . . . thing off me!"

"No," Gold growled. "You'll keep that on until we return with out daughter."

The kelpie shrieked in rage. "I am a fae! Not a beast of burden!"

"You are a tricky wicked creature, and I can't trust you." Gold declared. "So, you shall stay and wait here for us. We shouldn't be too long."

"Take your brat and get out!" the kelpie snapped, shaking its head with the bridle glinting upon its black skin. "The bloody imp screamed so loud it woke me up!"

"That's what we intend to do," Belle said briskly.

Then she took Bobby's arm and they continued onward.

It took about five minutes for Gold and Belle to stop aching as they walked up towards the castle. The path was wide and littered with cobblestones, and it was lucky that they were wearing sturdy boots, because they might have turned an ankle navigating the stony path.

It seemed to take hours to get closer to the castle, and just when it appeared they were going to cross the moat and drawbridge, which was lowered, two huge black dogs the size of ponies sprang onto the path before them.

Each dog looked like an Irish wolfhound, but ten times the size, with fangs the size of daggers and inky fur and yellow eyes. They blocked the path and growled menacingly, streams of drool dripping from their jaws onto the ground.

The two adventurers halted, and Belle said, "Bobby, these must be the guardian hounds."

"Yes, the black dogs. Ocras and Ainle."

He poked experimentally with his cane at one of the animals.

The dog immediately lunged and its teeth snapped upon the ebony wood.

Gold tugged it free with an oath. "Crazy animal!"

"So how do we get past them?" Belle asked.

"Well . . . most dogs like to eat," Bobby murmured. "And one of them is named Hungry. So . . . what do we have to feed them?"

Belle rummaged in their pack. "I have a package of turkey jerky."

"Good. Let me have it." He gestured and the package of jerky was multiplied twenty times.

Then he floated all the packages over to the two dogs.

One of them, the one on the right, darted over and began tearing into the packages, wolfing down the jerky like there was no tomorrow.

Gold grabbed Belle's hand and they crept around that one.

But the other dog exploded from its standstill and leaped in front of them, sizzling the air with its menacing growls. It was clear that if they attempted to try and run past, the dog would happily tear out their throats.

"Dammit!" Belle swore. "What do we do?"

Bobby cupped his chin in his hand. "Well . . . this dog's name is Warrior."

"So we're supposed to fight it?"

"Or outwit it."

"We have to hurry, Bobby. If Ava eats their food . . . or the other dog finishes the food we gave it . . ."

"I know. I know. Let me think," her husband said, a trifle irritably. "What else does a dog like to do?"

"Chase things?"

"Yes . . ." Gold conjured a ball and threw it hard.

Ainle glanced at it, but made no attempt to go after it.

He conjured other things, toy rabbits, a squeaky bone, and threw all of them at the black wolfhound.

None of them made the dog move.

"Bobby . . . maybe you can immobilize it with your magic?"

Gold gestured, but he felt the magic flow over the dog and refuse to take hold.

"Belle, it's not working!" he cried in frustration. He stared into the dog's deep yellow eyes.

He could attack the dog, but something told him that would not be a good idea. The animal was a guardian, and probably warded against magical attacks, plus it went against his principles to hurt an animal that was just doing its job. The black wolfhound was a noble animal and he didn't relish harming it. Yet he needed to save his daughter.

He thought of Ava then, recalling her sweet smile and the way her little hands wound about his neck, the smell of honey and milk as she breathed on his cheek when she drifted off to sleep . . .

He shut his eyes. _Oh, Ava. I'm coming for you, baby. I'm coming._

It was then that it came to him.

Of course!

He opened his eyes and cried, "Belle, get ready to run."

"Bobby what are you planning?" she cried.

"Just do what I say," he ordered. Then he summoned something he hadn't used in years, having forgotten about his other talent besides sorcery and making deals.

A fine pale golden Martin guitar appeared in his hands. He held the guitar fondly, and murmured, "This is what will get us to the castle. Let's just hope I remember how to play."

His hands curled around the guitar and his fingers strummed it softly. Then he began to play, his fingers picking out a familiar lullaby that he used to sing to Ava back in the Dark Castle. It had its roots in his own childhood, and was one he recalled dimly his own mother and grandmother singing to him.

Rest tired eyes a while  
Sweet is thy baby's smile  
Angels are guarding and they watch o'er thee

Sleep, sleep, _grah mo chree *_  
Here on you mama's knee  
Angels are guarding  
And they watch o'er thee

The birdeens sing a fluting song  
They sing to thee the whole day long  
Wee fairies dance o'er hill and dale  
For very love of thee

Dream, Dream, _grah mo chree_  
Here on your Mama's knee  
Angels are guarding and they watch o'er thee  
As you sleep may Angels watch over  
And may they guard o'er thee.

The primrose in the sheltered nook  
The crystal stream the babbling brook  
All these things Lir's hands have made  
For very love of thee

Twilight and shadows fall  
Peace to His children all  
Angels are guarding and they watch o'er thee  
As you sleep  
May Angels watch over and may they guard o'er thee"

As he sang the familiar tune and strummed it upon the guitar, he saw the dog shake his head. Then it yawned and slowly lay down.

He began to play louder, yet keeping his voice to a soothing hum, just as he did when he'd rocked Ava and Bae to sleep all those years ago.

Slowly, the dog's eyes fluttered and then closed. He waved at Belle, indicating she ought to go.

Belle gave him a questioning glance, then picked up her pack and ran towards the drawbridge, her feet skipping over the wooden boards. As she neared the other side, she called, "Bobby! Come on!"

He slowed his playing, his voice softly drifting in the air in a lilting sweet tone. He slowly rose to his feet and then ceased playing and slung his guitar over his back and got his cane and began to creep past the snoozing dog.

He had almost gotten past the animal when his cane struck an uneven cobble.

He stumbled, nearly going to one knee.

The guitar banged against his back, the strings jarring sharply.

And Ainle pricked his ears and woke up.

Gold began to limp as quickly as he could onto the drawbridge.

Behind him, the wolfhound shook his head and bounded to his feet. He swung his head around and saw Gold and lunged after him, a paroxysm of barks exploding from his throat."

"Dammit to hell!" Gold swore and tried to move faster, but his injury wouldn't let him.

He could feel the dog's hot breath on his back and he was sure he was going to feel the animal's teeth in him any moment.

Belle spun to see her husband struggling to get across the bridge while behind him the vicious canine was pursuing him, ready to tear into him with savage ferocity.

"_Bobby!"_ she screamed, then she turned and grabbed her husband's hand and half dragged him across the bridge.

Just as the wolfhound's jaws clicked shut on the spot where he'd been seconds before.

As soon as their feet touched the other side, the dog halted, and did not pursue them any further.

Belle clutched her husband around the waist, and the two staggered over to lean against a tree in the courtyard. "Oh my God! Are you okay? It didn't . . . bite you, did it?"

"No . . . I'm okay . . ." he panted.

They waited several minutes so they could get their breath back, then Gold said, "Come on. Let's get moving."

They entered the castle, which oddly enough did not seem guarded by anything.

When they walked into the main hall, they found it was tiled in white marble with green four-leaf clover designs on the floor and a peat fire burned in the huge hearth. The walls were covered in gold leaf and mahogany and sparkling globes of light were situated on the walls.

"Now where's Shea?" Belle wanted to know.

"I don't know," Gold said, and clutched Ava's blanket to him. "But this says she's close."

He began to walk across the hall and through a door at the end.

There was another long hallway. "This way," he beckoned, and tapped his cane. His seeing drops revealed that this was an actual hallway, so he started down it.

Belle followed.

They went through more and more hallways and doors, but never seemed to reach the end of them.

"Bobby, we're traveling in circles!" Belle groaned. "I think we're lost."

"Or under a misdirection spell," the sorcerer growled angrily.

He halted, cursing the Sidhe with every fiber of his being.

Meanwhile, in Maeve's chambers, a certain little girl was growing hungry, and she climbed upon a chair to reach for a bowl of fruit on the table. Inside the bowl was a juicy golden pear, and her hand closed over it eagerly.

**A/N: The lullaby Bobby sang is called the Ballyeamon Cradle song.**** * _grah mo chree_ is Gaelic for "sweetheart".**


	6. Luck Is What You Make It

**6**

**Luck Is What You Make It**

A very frustrated Robert Gold, aka RUmplestiltskin, slammed his cane into the glittering wall of the corridor, and began swearing angrily in two different languages, English and Gaelic, which he'd learned after coming to this world. _Whack! Thwack! Whack!_ He slammed the wall so hard he should have cracked the wood on the wall, or damaged his cane, but both things were magical in nature and so endured the pounding he gave them.

Belle eyed her husband in concern, but she let him beat the wall a few more times before she called, "Robert! Stop! You're going to give yourself a stroke."

Bobby slammed the wall a few more times, his eyes blazing.

Belle caught his arm as he drew it back again, unafraid. "_Rumplestiltskin!"_ she snapped, enunciating the three syllables of his true name in his ear. "Enough! Beating the hell out of the wall isn't getting us anywhere."

He lowered his cane, breathing harshly, reining in his sudden spate of temper. He shot his wife a rueful look. "Sorry. I just . . . needed to . . . hit something . . . we're close, Belle, so very close . . . I can feel it . . . but their magic is blocking us and that damned leprechaun isn't here, and he promised he would be . . .!"

She put her arm around him. "We'll find her, Bobby. You mustn't lose faith. We will. You have to believe that."

"I do. But I'm afraid, dearie, we might be too late," he sighed. He glared balefully at the wall.

Just then there was a pop and Shea appeared in the corridor. "My sincerest apologies, Mr. and Mrs. Gold. I woulda been here sooner, but I'm Seneschal o' this castle an' have duties to attend to, ye ken. I couldna get off till now."

"Spare us the pretty excuses," Gold growled. "Just help us find the way to our daughter, as we agreed."

"Aye, I can do that," the leprechaun said. Then he clapped his hands three times and they were all whisked away in a swirl of evergreen light.

**Page~*~*~*~Break**

Ava had managed to grab the pear from the bowl and was about to take a bite of the tempting golden fruit when the door to Maeve's quarters opened and a familiar voice cried, "Ava, dearie, where are you? We've come to take you home, baby girl!"

In the door was her father, and as he came into the room, her mother appeared behind him. Both were dressed in funny costumes, but they were here at last.

"Papa! Mama!" the child yelled, and the pear tumbled from her hands and fell unnoticed to the floor as she jumped off the chair and raced towards her parents, her blue eyes shimmering with sheer joy.

Until she slammed into an invisible barrier and stumbled backwards and landed hard on her bottom. Holding out her hands to her parents, she burst into tears, sobbing hysterically.

Behind her, the pillows on the bed shredded themselves in a magical counterpoint to her howls.

"Rumple!" Belle shouted. "What's wrong?"

"There's a barrier blocking her from leaving," he cried. Then he began to call upon his magic. "But not for long!" His hand glowing with eldritch fire, he set it upon the invisible wall and bid it unmake itself.

Fire spread from his hands and along the invisible wall, making it glitter, and then it was gone, banished back into the ether from whence it had come.

Then he went to step forward, ready to grab up his daughter, when there was flicker of blue light, and a tall woman in a green dress with platinum hair dressed with diamonds and emeralds appeared before him, her pointed ears and slanted eyes of deep green marking her as one of the Sidhe.

"How _dare_ you invade my home, mortal?" she said coldly, her own hand sparking with magical energy.

"How dare _we_ invade your home?" Bobby repeated incredulously. "How dare _you_ steal our child, woman?"

Belle darted forward, attempting to grab Ava, but Maeve put out a hand and she froze in place.

"Let her go!" snapped Bobby, and gave a quick gesture and Belle was released from the binding ward. "Who are you, that dares to take one of mine?"

The Sidhe drew herself up, she towered a good foot about the sorcerer. "I am Maeve Highgarden, princess of the Seelie Court. And I took your daughter because I wish a child of my own."

"What do you think this is, some kind of adoption agency?" demanded Belle. "That's my baby you're holding prisoner there, and I want her back!"

"You can always have another. You mortals breed like rabbits," sneered Maeve.

"That doesn't give you the right to steal another's child," interrupted Robert coldly. "Ava is our daughter and we love her. She belongs with us." He gestured to his sobbing daughter, whose cries tore him apart. "Look at her. She's unhappy here, can't you see that?"

"She'll grow used to it in time. She's not the first mortal who has learned to live here," Maeve said. "How did you get here anyway? My chambers are warded and impossible to locate unless-" then she caught sight of the leprechaun standing behind the two mortals. "Shea! _You_ brought them here?"

Shea opened his mouth to speak, but Bobby said swiftly, "I made him do so. Now give me my child, or else!"

"Or else what?" Maeve laughed, and gestured with a hand.

Wind slammed into Gold, knocking him flying. His cane clattered across the floor as he was thrown into the wall opposite him.

"Bobby!" Belle shouted, furious. She drew her revolver and pointed it at the Sidhe princess. Then she fired.

The bullet almost grazed Maeve's head as it whizzed past to bury itself in the bedroom wall.

"Papa!" sobbed Ava, and suddenly pieces of fruit flew at the princess and whacked her in the face and the back, as the neophyte sorceress attacked her captor.

"Oww!" Maeve yelped, trying to duck the fruit that slammed into her.

Belle brought up the gun again, her eyes icy. "Nobody hurts my husband, _princess!_ Or kidnaps my daughter! Do you know what this is? It's a gun, from my world. It shoots steel bullets, and if one hits you, you'll die from iron poisoning or a gunshot wound, whatever comes first. And don't think I won't use it on you." She pointed the barrel at Maeve. "I missed on purpose the first time. I won't the second. Now . . . give me my child!"

"I'd do as she says, Yer Highness," said Shea.

Maeve hesitated for a fraction of a second. Then she nodded wearily. "Fine. Take her. But know that I never would have harmed her. I'm not like my dark kin. I just wanted a child to love . . . for I lost my own the day I lost my husband."

While Belle kept the gun trained on the sorceress, Bobby climbed to his feet, after summoning his cane to him. He limped over and picked up Ava in his arms. "Shh . . . it's okay, sweetheart," he crooned as his little girl wrapped her arms about his neck in a death grip. "Papa's here. I've got you."

As she calmed down, the fruit fell to the ground.

Bobby shot a death glare at Maeve. "While I understand your grief, princess, what you did was utterly unconscionable. You stole a baby from her family . . . a family who loved and wanted her. When there are plenty of children who are unwanted in our world, who have nothing and no one. How could you do such a thing?"

"I . . . just saw her playing one day . . . it was chance . . . and then . . . I thought . . . she made me happy . . . so I took her away . . . I thought we could be happy, that in time she would forget you . . ."

"And we would forget her?" Belle snapped. "But you were wrong. Ava is our child, and we never would have stopped looking for her or missing her. Anymore than you have the one you lost."

"But you can have more children!" Maeve said.

"Why can't you?" asked Bobby, stroking his daughter's hair.

"It's different for us," Maeve said. "We have never been able to . . . procreate like you mortals. My husband and I were married for centuries . . . and the child I lost was the only one I ever conceived. Then I lost both of them, one after the other."

"That's too bad, dearie, but you should never have tried to take my daughter," Bobby lectured. "Have you never heard the old tale of Oisin and Niamh?"

Maeve frowned. "What tale is this, sorcerer?"

"A cautionary tale of why it's often a bad idea for mortal and fae to mix," Robert answered. He began the story, "Oisin met Niamh on a white sand beach and they fell in love. She took him with her to the Land of Youth, although his father was against it. Tir na nOg was a beautiful, peaceful place, but Oisin didn't feel time passing at all. After what felt like merely days to him, he got homesick and wanted to go back to see his father. Niamh loved him deeply and didn't want him to go, but when he wouldn't be dissuaded, she said her goodbyes to him, knowing he wouldn't return. She asked him not to set his foot on Irish soil, made him promise he wouldn't, and he laughed, but did. He took a horse and rode it across the sea, but when he returned home, he discovered that everyone he knew had long since passed away. He was crushed, and he wanted to return to Niamh. Just as he was on his way to the beach, the stirrup on his saddle broke, and though he was a good rider, he slipped, and one foot touched the ground, turning him into an old, old man... with nothing but his memories..."

"How terrible!" Belle remarked.

"Yes, a sad tale," Maeve said, nodding. She gazed wistfully again at Ava. "We have long known that congress between mortal and fae often results in sorrow. But on occasion we have brought mortal children here and raised them as our own."

"Children you stole?" asked Bobby accusingly.

"They were happy here!" Maeve snapped. "They lived almost forever, unlike the paltry handful of years mortals claim."

"Who wants to live forever, princess?" sneered the sorcerer. "Forever is endless without love, without happiness. Trust me, no one knows that better than me!"

"I could keep you all here forever," Maeve threatened. "Then I would have everything."

"You could . . ." Gold allowed. "But I make a bad enemy, dearie. And so does Belle. And if anything ever happened to either of us, Ava would never forgive you." He put on his 'let's make a deal' face. "How about this? You let us go—and make sure that when we return to our world, only a short time, say perhaps a day or so has passed, not a hundred years—and I give you a child?"

"How can you do that? The healers said I can have no more after my son was lost!"

"Why?" demanded Belle. "Was it a difficult birth?"

"I was riding when I got the news my husband had been slain by orcs. I was so distraught I fell . . . and that brought on my labor. My son was too small to live . . . and they said I should have no more children," Maeve said tightly.

"May I see, dearie? I'm a fair healer," Bobby told her.

Maeve extended her hand.

He took it and using his healing energies, fixed what had been wrong with her womb, there had been some damage to it, but it was fixable—if one knew what one was doing. A glowing green light surrounded her for a moment. Then he withdrew his hand. "There! You can now carry a child to term again. Now go find a husband, dearie."

Maeve eyed him speculatively. "You would do . . ." she murmured, licking her perfect lips.

"_He's_ married!" Belle said, glaring at the other woman. "And I don't share! Now go find your own!" She kept the gun trained upon the Sidhe, not trusting the other woman a bit, even after the deal Robert had struck with her. The Sidhe might not be able to lie, but they were as tricky as they came.

Maeve tossed her head and chuckled. "Pity. We could have had some good times there!" Then she waved a languid hand at them. "You may go."

As Bobby turned to leave, the princess called, "Wait," then went over to a basket in a corner of the room and picked something up out of it. "Here. A parting gift for Ava." She held out a small calico kitten.

Belle stiffened. "What strings come attached with it?"

"None. The grimalkin and her played together while she was here and this one says she wants to bond with your lassie. So . . . here, a gift, freely given."

"Kitty!" Ava cried, and reached for the kitten.

"Hey, easy there, dearie," Bobby remonstrated. "You don't squish the kitten." He let Maeve put the kitten in his arms, where it curled up next to Ava, purring.

The little girl kissed the kitten happily. "Pretty kitty!"

He looked at Maeve. "And what powers does this little scrap have?"

"Oh, the same as all grimalkins," the Sidhe princess grinned. "But you'll figure them out in time, as the kitten does. Fare thee well, Ava Gold."

Ava looked at her, then gave a small wave. "Bye, old lady!"

Belle burst out laughing.

"Old? Me?" gasped Maeve, sounding slightly insulted.

Bobby smirked. "It's the hair, dearie," he indicated the Sidhe's silvery hair. "Only old ladies have that color where we come from."

Then they turned and left the room, allowing Shea to guide them from the palace and back across the drawbridge.

With the leprechaun in attendance, the wolfhounds remained calm and did not attack.

"Can ye get yerself home from here?" asked the leprechaun.

"I can," Bobby reassured him, indicating the golden string in his pocket.

Shea bowed to him. "Then may the luck o' the little people go with ye!" And he gestured and some gold coins appeared in his hand with a flourish. "Fer savin' me hide with yer half-truth back there."

"Thank you," Rumple took the gold and put it in his pocket. "I'll save that for Ava. She can use it to go to college." Then he added, "But luck is what you make of it, Shea."

Then they turned and walked towards the river, with the kitten and Ava, to where the kelpie waited still, bound by the golden bridle.

Once across the river, Robert released the kelpie from the bridle and it jumped back into the river and vanished. Then they followed the golden string back through the meadow and the tunnel into Storybrooke again.

When they stepped through the tunnel, they found the sun had moved in the sky, it was high noon now, and the air seemed . . . warmer somehow.

"What day is it?" Belle wondered.

"I have no idea," her husband answered. "But let's go home and find out, dearie. Take my hand."

Belle wrapped her arms about him instead, and then he transported them all back home in a cloud of purple smoke.

They found out it was now St. Patrick's Day, according to Gold's computer clock. Three days had passed while they had been in Tir Na Nog.

"Well, we can now have that picnic!" Belle said, and went to pack the basket full of food.

But instead of going to the park, they stayed right there in their own backyard, eating all the delicious food Belle had made upon the cloth on the lawn, while Ava ran after the calico kitten she had acquired, whom Bobby had dubbed Shannon.

The two parents watched their daughter running and giggling and smiled, then Bobby reached over and kissed Belle passionately.

"A kiss for luck, dearie!" he teased.

Belle smirked. "Because I'm so lucky to have you."

"Same here," he grinned, then he grunted as the kitten jumped onto his shoulder and Ava crashed into him, yelling, "'Mere, Shannon!"

Laughing, Gold picked up his daughter. "But the best luck of all is your child beside you," he said, and he gave his daughter a kiss too, before going to eat some shamrock cookies from the basket.

**A/N: Special thanks to OneMagician for giving me the tale of Oisin and Niamh. Also, who wants a sequel with Rumple, Belle, and Ava finding Bae and bringing him back to Storybrooke?**


End file.
